Steve Rogers' Bladder Hates Steve Rogers
by Braveheart57
Summary: And meetings. And old leather seats.


Steve woke up with a frown. Dreaming about the War wasn't unusual. Not only did plenty of his fellow veterans do the same, but was to be expected when one spends the last half of a century napping in a block of ice.

What was weird was the setting. It wasn't on a battlefield. Nor was it training in New Jersey. It was the day of the serum injection. He was secured to the table, by the straps. The pod was closed, and Dr Erskine was talking to him. The only words he could remember from the dream were "probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?". But he just shrugged at this as he stepped into the bathroom.

At breakfast, he made sure to drink lots of water. One of the worst parts of the procedure back then was his dehydration beforehand. _No fluids_. So, now that he was free, at a place with water fountains every 100 m, he would have _plenty of fluid_. Midway through his cornflakes, he got a message from Nick Fury, summoning him to a meeting. He grabbed his coat and sprinted to his destination. It turned out to be a small gathering where he only knew Nat and Tony, but oh well. A soldier goes where he is ordered to be.

Steve was usually active in meetings, no matter how boring the subject. Boringness had been one of the many ways the Nazis hid their plans. In plain sight with so dull packaging and titles, no officer wanted to pick it up and check if their C.O wanted it. So, Steve always focused. Until today. He frowned at a sensation. It was his bladder, telling him he needed to pee. He subtly rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten. With a deep breath, he resolved to stay in his seat a while longer. It wasn't the first time he'd been caught short like this. The War had caused several others. Worse, even. So, Steve just squeezed his thighs together and tried to pick up where the conversation had gone.

Cap probably would have managed the entirety of the meeting, had the urge not grown. It reached a level of discomfort where Steve _really_ wanted to shift. But that would attract attention. So instead, he put a hand in his pocket, to clench inconspicuously, while moving his feet, and only, his feet, eagerly.

Fury suddenly called for a vote. Steve had forgotten what it was for, but not that it concerned something trivial. So he quickly raised his hand. That was a mistake. Natasha shot him a confused glare. With the knowledge she had about the matter being voted on, Steve was not the type to blindly agree with it.

"Really, Steve? Just like that? No argument? What happened to 'plant yourself like a tree'?" Nat asked, summoning more eyes on Steve. He tried his best to ignore them, but couldn't help shuffling slightly in his seat. So now Tony was looking at him too.

"Come on, you know as well as I do this is just postering procedure. I'm acting more like a team player; you should be happy for me" he smirked at Romanoff while crossing his legs at the ankles and wiggling some more.

Inside Tony Starks brain, suspicion bells were ringing. No withstanding theories on the wiggling, just one question: What the flaming hell is wrong with Steve?

Tony had no choice but to ask Romanoff. She was the spy, she would know. And she did. Just a little.

Steve was hiding his situation almost successfully. Natasha had managed to find three "pointers" as to his problem. And he definitely had one, why else would he be so defensive?

1._ Intermittent tense expression_. Steve was not only frowning whenever he wasn't speaking, but looked almost "scrunched up" in concentration, as if a highly uncomfortable sensation hit him ever so often.

She, of course, didn't know it was Steve grabbing his crotch every few minutes, to great relief.

2\. The vote. Not only was Steve's action; of voting in favour, without putting into question any part of it, uncharacteristic. But he also deflected any and all attention away from him as soon as he was in the spotlight. Even more unusual for Steve.

3\. Hidden hand. Nat didn't know what Steve was doing with his left hand under the table. He couldn't be hurting himself, nor fiddling with a grenade, he'd be sweating due to her earlier interrogation. So, it was a _real_ mystery.

Nat really wanted to see under the table, and thus had begun to slide her chair subtly a few inches away from it so that she could peer under it. But this was interrupted by a text from Tony:

\- [Something's going on with Steve.]

She wrote back

\- [I see.]

She didn't commit, as she had more trust in her abilities to find the explanation than she had in Tony Stark, and his imagination. Especially since it caused Ultron.

But the fact Tony was interested, meant there was a sign she'd missed. Neither of her observations was clear enough for a civilian to have spotted them. She returned to Staring Down Steve Rogers. The super soldier in question was shifting in his chair. So that indicated a desire to leave the room. But for what purpose? She shot him a concerned look, which caused Steve to look away, and hope Nat didn't say anything.

A few minutes went by, and then Nat's phone pinged once more.

Tony- [What does fancy spy science say about tapping your fingers on a table?]

Steve was, _indeed_, tapping his fingers on the table. It reaffirmed her belief that he wanted to leave. And seemingly, ASAP. It had been activated by Tony's pouring of coffee. Right. Next. To him. Unbeknownst to Natasha.

She swiftly updated him on her "Steve wants to leave" theory.

"Hey, everything alright Cap?" Tony whispered, wishing to help immediately, if possible.

"How long until the break?" Steve replied, reflexively. He didn't exactly want to hide his problem from Tony more than necessary. He knew Tony wouldn't judge him or tease. Stark was someone who understood. He'd been there; In the casual "making stupid decisions" way as well, which was the important part.

"15 minutes," Tony stated. Steve let out a sigh, and sorted through his memories of uncomfortable bladders, and found some, where he'd waited longer. It helped. Almost.

"Well, then, I'm ok," Steve assured the billionaire, putting on a stiff, Sergeant-like expression.

The break arrived, but to Cap's disappointment, Stark didn't rise from his seat right away. Steve figured he'd only had that _one_ cup of coffee so far. Not enough to need a potty break. A spasm in his bladder, made Steve bend over for a second, and quickly stand up. The last thing he needed was to wet himself in full view of all the people who'd been smart enough to pee _before_ the meeting. Nor did he want to reveal his humiliating problem.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked in amused confusion. Cap was at this moment, leaning on a wall and swinging his legs back and forth across each other.

"It's a stretching exercise. We do those a lot in the Army," Steve lied, smugly. It was, technically similar to an exercise he'd done during training, but honestly, was purely to allow him to cross his legs without being questioned. It felt good. So good that he suddenly decided to keep them crossed, keeping his left leg attached diagonally to his right. He didn't imagine it was that unusual. And it wasn't; Unless you were someone who had already noticed something strange previously. As soon as he did this, it clicked, for both Tony AND Natasha.

She realized what he'd been doing with his hand under the table; Grabbing himself. And there was only one thing that connected all the evidence. There was no doubt. Steve needed to _pee_. It trivialized all the discomfort during the meeting; anyone could've ended up in a similar situation. Everyone makes mistakes.

But it didn't account for Steve not leaving the room, like the others. Some were, like him, in need of some _relief_.

Tony, however, understood the same as Nat, and more. During meetings at Stark Industries, back when his father was still alive, Tony usually chose a random young employee and went to the bathroom simultaneously with them, as going alone, in the middle of a meeting, in front of his father, the _CEO_, was quite awkward and embarrassing for him. Actually, it still _was_. Hence the single cup of coffee that morning.

"Don't you think you should go with them?" Steve asked, indicating a few people who were walking out.

"Why?" Tony still had half a mind that really wanted Steve to flat out admit it, like people usually did in this decade.

Steve didn't surrender, though. He just pointed vaguely down his anatomy, resisting the urge to grab at it. Romanoff noted the thigh scratching Steve did instead, with interest.

"It's not healthy to strain your bladder like that," Steve lectured Tony gently. Steve's bladder slapped him internally, protesting the hypocrisy.

Tony had planned to wait through the entire meeting, ignoring both parts of his biology, which had woken up already. But, since his elderly friend seemed to be still operating by Catholic table manners, from the last century, he splurged on his bladder, for the sake of the bladder of Steve Rogers.

"You know what? I think you're right. Respect your elders, and all that jazz," Tony remarked, walking to the door. Then he stopped.

"Don't you.." Tony questioned. Cap had yet to signal an intention to go with him. The problem facing the captain was the fact that Tony was standing parallel to him, not ahead. So him following Tony wouldn't seem random. It would be blatantly apparent that he was following the genius for socially compulsive reasons.

"Super-Human, remember. The serum makes everything bigger," Steve unclenched his legs and stood upright, pushing his pelvis outward, in mild arrogance. Fortunately, it also helped his bladder. Steve walked quickly back to his seat, and sat down, looking straight ahead. Tony assumed he'd been wrong and left anyway.

Both of Steve's legs were jiggling, as Nat could see easily, as she had stood up as well, to observe him better. She felt immense sympathy, for all the pain Steve was putting himself through.

She decided to text him. Operation Get Steve To The Bathroom, needed reinforcements, of the technological variety.

\- [Remember the Golden Rule?]

\- ["When you've gotta go, you've gotta go]

Steve found the joke funny, but the reminder? Not a good time.

He texted the words "Shut Up" and clasped his hands together in his lap, pressing them on his crotch, while bent over, not looking at anyone. As Nick Fury chose this moment to observe his employees, due to the fact he was a Skrull named Talos, he also discovered Steve's distress, and the nature of it.

'_Jeez Louise, poor fella_,' Talos/Fury thought to himself in pity towards the soldier.

"Hey, Rogers!" 'Fury' called out across the room. Steve looked up, giving his supervisor full attention, all the while hoping Nick Fury of all people didn't suspect anything from his posture.

"Sir...I mean, Mr Fury?" he corrected himself. It was hard to remember; he was at SHIELD, not the Army.

"You do know that the break's not over yet?" Fury hinted, twitching his eye underneath the fake eyepatch. Just knowing it was supposedly there, irritated Talos.

A blush spread from Steve's concealed neck to his ears, barely visible on his cheeks. Fury _did know_. Or rather, the charmingly Australian-sounding alien who was really in charge knew.

He simply nodded.

"You know, these seats are a _killer_ if you're wearing shorts. Maybe get a bit of fresh air? We'll wait. Oh, that's right, there's hardly anyone still in this room," Fury/Talos reminded Steve.

Nat employed the emergency text:

\- Go on.

That settled it for Steve. With one rock hard clench of his muscles, he stood up, both arms at his sides, in military terms, at attention.

" Sir, May I Be Dismissed?" He asked Fury respectfully.

"Again, not in the army. You get breaks every two and a half hours. You're free to do whatever you like during them. In fact, I implore you to do what you clearly _really_ _need_ to do, before the next 2 and a half hours start," Fury recommended. Talos accidentally said the last part as himself.

"Yes, sir!" Steve reflexively saluted and sprinted out of the room, military-style in his urgency. Mentally he wondered, _Since when did Fury learn to speak _**_Australian_**?

Steve yelled "Gangway" at his co-workers, clearing his path to the men's room. It was going to be a touch-and-go situation. He pushed the door wide open, stood in front of the first urinal he reached and prepared himself mechanically. Zip down, button off, pants down an inch, revolver "armed and ready". And with that, he let go. He didn't even need to aim for more than a second, allowing him to tilt his head back in euphoria, and a flood of urine was finally released. Little did he know, the door hinge was old, so the door remained open for Natasha to peek through. She smiled widely at the sight of a highly satisfied Steve Rogers.

While he was washing his hands, he heard Natasha's voice. His blush came back as he turned and realized the door was still open.

"Bet that felt good, huh Cap?" Nat remarked with a chuckle.

"Second best pee I've ever had," he confirmed fondly.

Nat frowned at the "second place" designation but moved on to scolding.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" she shook her head in exasperation.

"It wouldn't have happened if Tony had walked a couple of steps ahead of me," Steve muttered, walking towards her annoyedly.

"Don't blame Tony. He sacrificed some pride, going earlier than he normally would, for you."

"I know," he nodded apologetically.

"What did you mean by 'second-best pee you'd ever had'?" Nat asked.

"Yeah, there's been one better. Just the one," Steve stated, with a nostalgic, dreamy look on his face.

"When was that?" Nat asked with amused curiosity. She couldn't imagine a pee more delightful than the moaning performance she'd seen just then.

"1941. Right after the Super Serum got injected in me. They told me not to drink anything the night before, but the bladder fills during sleep anyway, so I ended up having to go while already in the special pod. They couldn't do anything then, so they just did their thing. I ran after a Hydra guy, shortly after, and then talked to the press. With a fuller and fuller bladder," Steve retold.

Nat smirked in recognition.

"I just got in the car, originally intending to _go_ back at camp, but then...Carter said something quite unfortunate.."

**1941, SSR Vehicle**

"Well, Rogers, you did well. Crisis over. Sort of. We can both relax," Carter commented, as she patted Steve's shoulder, admiring his new biceps unprofessionally.

_Somehow, those words made something snap. Like a **green light** to my bladder, saying 'go ahead'. _

Steve tilted his head forward, sighed and let go.

"Great, thanks," he replied in his trance, as the warm sensation of urine leaving his body overtook him. The euphoria was unbelievable. Steve almost wondered if the fact he needed to pee before the injection meant his bladder _shrunk_ as a result. "Super-Small Bladder". The Erskine voice in his head reasoned, that it was just temporary.

"Thanks for what?.." Carter began to ask, before she heard it. The watery hissing noise. Peggy leaned forward to look closer at Steve. She saw that he was in the middle of urinating on himself.

She didn't know whether to laugh or be angry.

"Steve, you're peeing," she stated in shock.

"Am I? Good," Steve remarked, half-consciously.

"No, you're peeing..in the car, next to me," she elaborated, hoping, purely for his sake, that it would "wake" him.

_I finished and proceeded to try washing my hands, in the sink I thought was in front of me. Then I realized why there was no water..._

1941 Steve tilted his head forward and opened his eyes quickly. In front of him were a pair of dry hands, and the driver of the vehicle. Below him, was a pair of wet legs, and a blue puddle. Part of the pee was surplus super serum.

"Oh, No! Oh, no no no no, NO NO NO!" Steve yelped in horror. He didn't know what to do. He'd wet himself in an SSR car!

His whole face went red when he made eye contact with Carter.

"It's alright; you're Captain America. You've earned a wee in this car," Peggy assured him, patting his wet leg, and laughing.

"Hey, I did warn Erskine that I _had to go_," Steve agreed. "Rest in Peace," he added, drawing a cross on his chest.

"That's what RIP means?" Carter asked, feigning surprise. "I thought it meant Ride and Pee" she joked. The whole car shook with laughter until they got back to base.

"Peggy got me a new set of pants, and I showered. The last thing she said before going back to her cabin was 'At least now, your trousers look like they've been in the ocean,' " Steve finished his story.

Natasha laughed. "Well, try to aim for third or fourth-best pee in the future, yeah?" she suggested. Steve saluted and marched back to the meeting. Fury/Talos shook his head once, as yet another request for Steve to be upfront about his bladder in the future, then proceeded with the agenda.

The End.


End file.
